A Valentine for Harlequin's Anniversary

by Catherine Mann

  A Valentine for Harlequin’s Anniversary

  Celebrating 60 years of reading pleasure with An exclusive collection of heartwarming stories and insights

  Includes bonus Valentine’s short story!

  Catherine Mann

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  A Valentine for Harlequin’s Anniversary

  An Evening to Remember

  A Valentine for Harlequin’s Anniversary

  Catherine Mann

  A Valentine for Harlequin’s Anniversary

  In 2009 Harlequin celebrates 60 years of providing women with pure reading pleasure. Since publishing our first book in 1949, Harlequin has grown to become the world’s leading romance publisher.

  To commemorate this special anniversary we have created a special eBook, A Valentine for Harlequin’s Anniversary. Included is a story from RITA Award winning author Catherine Mann, An Evening to Remember, along with bonus content from some of your favorite authors.

  Every year, Jayne Hoogenberk, our community manager, asks our authors to share their favorite “Harlequin Moment” with us in a special Blog event at eHarlequin.com. For 30 days, 30 different authors share their thoughts on a variety of topics.

  1) Why I Believe in Love

  2) Why I Write

  3) Describe Your Favorite Harlequin Moment (inspired by a book)

  To celebrate our 60th, we have gathered 60 of our favorite entries. You will be inspired, awed, moved and perhaps inspired to remember some special moments of your own!

  Happy Valentines Day to you and Happy Anniversary to us!

  Table of Contents:

  First/Most Memorable Harlequin Book I Ever Read…

  Exotic Locales

  Inspiration

  Sharing the Harlequin Moment

  Selling My First Novel to Harlequin

  The Harlequin Parties

  Top 10 Lists

  Making New Friends in the Harlequin Community

  Why I Believe in Love

  Why I write

  February 2009 Blog Bash

  An Affair to Remember by Catherine Mann

  First/Most Memorable Harlequin Book I Ever Read…

  #1

  First Harlequin book.

  I was eleven. The book was a zillionth-hand and battered accordingly. I felt I’d found Aladdin’s lamp. I would have done anything to have that book.

  Turned out I only had to ask for it. My mother bought it for me. And I had it. It was an epic adventure struggling to read it. Then to read more. Thousands more. And it all somehow led me here.

  Thanks to my mom, who drove thousands of miles to and from the only bookstore that had Harlequins to fill my insatiable need. Thanks to her and dad for spending a fortune to feed that need, for believing me when I said that, like all the passions that took me over, Harlequins were improving the quality of my life and mind. I wouldn’t be here today without their faith and unstinting efforts.

  —Olivia Gates

  www.oliviagates.com

  #2

  Oh, Malachite. (Sigh!) I have had so many amazing reading experiences from Harlequin over the years, but there’s just something special about Ruth Langan’s 1998 “Jewels of Texas” miniseries and particularly the last book, the story of the family’s untamed half-brother, Malachite. Yes, some of my most amazing Harlequin moments were spent curled up in the story of Malachite Jewel, or, more specifically, imagining myself curled up with this sexy, part-Comanche son of Texas rancher Onyx Jewel.

  I love this book!

  The opportunity to come into a story and fall in love for the first time, each and every time, is my favorite part of the Harlequin experience. It’s what always keeps me coming back for more.

  Jewels of Texas

  #1 Diamond

  #2 Pearl

  #3 Jade

  #4 Ruby

  #5 Malachite

  —Dana Corbit

  www.danacorbit.com

  Exotics Locales

  #3

  My favorite Harlequin moment was in the early 80s during my high school days. I can’t remember the specific book or author, but the first time that I read one marked a transition phase in my life.

  After moving to the U.S., I quickly realized that visiting countries on summer break was not the same as settling down and immersing oneself in a culture. There were obvious external differences with accents, clothing styles, mannerisms coming from my Caribbean background, heavily influenced by British flavor. But there were internal differences that came with feeling like an outsider and only bonding with other kids that were new immigrants.

  Around this time, my mother bought several boxes of books at a yard sale and the majority were Harlequins.

  As an avid reader from a very young age, I turned to books as my steadying comfort. I didn’t have to change who I was to read and enjoy the book. I simply opened my mind and heart and let the words dispel any sad thoughts. These books were a place to escape.

  Harlequins were good as chocolate chip cookies, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or nacho chips (required snacks for reading). I devoured a book within hours, loving the journey to exotic locations with handsome men falling for beautiful women. With my pocket money, I started buying my own books and would treasure them as the pile grew on my bookshelf. No one could borrow my books. And heaven forbid, if they dared to dog ear a page.

  As I progressed through school, my self-confidence grew. My acceptance that we were here to stay sunk in. I had assimilated. And my high school friends diversified, with many sharing in my book enthusiasm. With one particular friend, we developed a routine.

  I borrowed from the library mobile unit that came through the neighborhood. She used her pocket money to buy the new releases and she had them in numerical order on her shelf. If you borrowed it, you had better return it in the same condition.

  I could read at least three in a day on weekends and I was allowed to read them after I had completed my homework on the weekday. I would borrow the current and past titles, curl up with cookies, and dive into the books. We discussed our stories with each other, much like the modern day book clubs. If we only knew that we could have been the Oprah and “my best friend” Gayle template with our book club. I’m sure we’d read hundreds by the time we graduated from high school.

  As I reminisce about those early days reading Harlequin, I had several favorites. My favorite settings were Australia, New Zealand, Italy, Greek Isles, and countryside of England or Ireland. My favorite stories consisted of farms or ranches, the opulent offices of a business tycoon, or the villa that was in a family dynasty for several generations. The hero-types were reminded of Sean Connery, Pierce Brosnan, Anthony Quinn, Omar Sharif.

  From those days of reading romances, we also tried our hands at writing them. Thank goodness, my selective memory has blocked what I wrote and where those stories may be. As I moved from high school to university, and to the professional world, I never imagined that I would write for Harlequin. Writing was such a personal thing that sharing it, and especially with people outside of my circle, was intimidating.

  I love that my mother thought I was mature enough to read a Harlequin. And I thank her for all those days of keeping the children so that I could write, something she still does when I will be out of town for a long period.

  Simply…Harlequin rocks!

  —Michelle Monkou

  www.michellemonkou.com

  #4

  So I’m fourteen, it’s summer and I don’t have a lot of money. No allowance at my house and I hated babysitting. So I didn’t buy many books. Those I did buy, I held of to as if they were pure gold.

  I remember riding my bike to the library every wee
k, like clockwork. I’d check out five or six and head back to my bike, excited to crack that first cover. After barricading myself in my bedroom, I’d read into the night, staying up until two or three in the morning.

  Oh, the men. We’re talking Alpha, right? Were there any other kind back then? They were handsome, expert kissers, knew how to flirt and had great, sometimes exotic names. They were rich too. Hey, I had planned on being a career woman, but a girl can dream, can’t she?

  But it wasn’t all about the romance. I was a sheltered young woman who’d barely ever traveled outside of the state of Minnesota and had never been on a plane. These books let me travel in my mind. I went to the Rocky Mountains, South America, England, the Caribbean Islands. You name it, there was a book set there.

  I’m sure that if I hadn’t read every romance that library had on its shelves that summer, the next summer would’ve been more of the same. Except that I had to get a job. Dang. What a summer!

  —Helen Brenna

  www.helenbrenna.com

  www.ridingwiththetopdown.blogspot.com

  Inspiration

  #5

  I don’t read romance just for the “romance.” I read it for the triumph over conflicts. The relationship discovery involved in seeing what makes two people right for each other. And, oh yes, that all important first meet between the hero and heroine.

  It’s that moment in my own life that I’d rank as my personal favorite. Not the obstacles in our romance, or even the getting to know you phase, but the time I first met my husband.

  And after eighteen years, we are still enjoying the happily-ever-after of my favorite Harlequin moment.

  —Joanne Rock

  www.roannerock.com

  Sharing the Harlequin Moment

  #6

  My teen years, a long, long time ago, were spent as a blur. I didn’t read romance, had no idea what it was or that it even existed. I had no idea who or what Harlequin was and to tell you the truth, I don’t even remember seeing a romance novel growing up. I was too busy cheering on my favorite football and basketball teams to be bothered with reading. I also hung out with my friends, ran track, played tennis, did gymnastics and danced, none of which required me to sit still and read. In quiet moments I sketched and painted. But mostly I was in perpetual motion from sun up to sun down and that filled my day quite well.

  Recently, I took a good look at my teenage daughter, Jennifer, and I found myself noticing what fills her days. As a typical teen when not in school she listens to music, plays sports, goes shopping and to the movies with friends. She’s pretty much like me at that age. But here’s the kicker, she also reads. She read a lot. She reads just about everything she can get her hands on. She reads Harlequin. Although at this point she’s not interested in the traditional romance lines, yet. As all proud mothers will attest, my daughter is the spitting image of me. Well, Jennifer is the spitting image of me. Yet, imagine my astonishment when I saw her pick up her first Harlequin Kimani TRU, read and then ask for more.

  Last summer Jennifer and I had the opportunity to write a Harlequin young adult novel together. It’s called, She Said, She Said, and it’s about the shattered relationship of a fictional mother and teenage daughter. I can’t tell you what an awesome reality doing this project with Jennifer became. We started slow and cautious often driving each other crazy with demands and insertions (well, mostly me), but in the end we flowed like true professionals. In the last days of writing and editing I watched Jennifer come into her own. At that point Jennifer stepped out of my shadow and into her own space.

  Harlequin had touched another reader, a new generation of readers.

  I look at Jennifer now and I no longer see a reflection of myself. I do however see an independent young lady on the verge of womanhood. So, my favorite Harlequin inspired moment was seeing my daughter reading her first Harlequin Kimani TRU. Thank you Harlequin, Linda Gill and Evette Porter, your insight, courage and faith opened up a new world. Here’s to the next generation of romance readers. May their hearts be just as full and their dreams just as fulfilled.

  —Celeste O. Norfleet

  www.celesteonorfleet.com

  #7

  My favorite Harlequin moment came on April 7, 2005, when my mama rose up and started speaking to me from the grave. Before you think I’ve gone off my rocker, let me give you the back story.

  Though my mother was so feisty and funny and indomitable nobody in our family had ever imagined she would get sick and die, in the spring of 2004 she lost forty pounds, shrinking and fading while we wondered what in the world we would do without her.

  Much to Mama’s horror, I gave up writing in order to help my sister take care of her. She nagged and badgered me from hospital beds, recovery rooms, rehab centers and ultimately an assisted living home.

  “You can’t quit writing,” Mama would say. “You love it too much.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Mama. Besides, I’ve said all I can say in romance.”

  “Flitter. You have not. Call Tara Gavin (my editor).”

  Tara and I had known each other since the late eighties when I first came onboard at Harlequin and she was editing Silhouette Romance. Mama knew that Tara and I have always had a wonderful relationship that goes beyond editor and author. She also knew that I could never stop doing the thing I loved best-telling great stories.

  Mama died that fall of 2004 and my muse left me. It didn’t return until the spring of 2005. Suddenly, the stories came pouring back and I couldn’t wait to get back to the computer.

  But first, I picked up the phone and did what Mama had told me to do all along: I called Tara and pitched my idea-the story of two sisters taking care of their feisty, ailing mother. (Sound familiar?)

  In one of those magical, miraculous moments, it turned out Tara had launched the Harlequin NEXT line and was looking for just such a story. I sent a five-page synopsis and she called me on April 7, 2005 with the good news.

  “I love this story and am going to call your agent with an offer. I especially love the Mama character.”

  “That’s no character,” I told her. “That’s my mama, and today would have been her eighty-ninth birthday.”

  After Tara and I talked, I raced outside, picked daffodils and carried them to Mama’s grave.

  “Mama, you didn’t have to die to get me to do what you wanted. I’d have called Tara eventually.” Then I told her about my conversation. I could almost hear Mama laughing and saying I told you so.

  But she wasn’t finished yet. The story became Driving Me Crazy, published by Harlequin NEXT, 2006. Mama became Victoria Lucas, and I didn’t have to do much except show up at the keyboard. She dictated every word.

  With Mama at the helm, there was no way Driving Me Crazy would be anything except funny and uplifting, even if the subject matter was weighty. I wrote the novel in six weeks while I was also commuting 120 miles round trip three days a week to Mississippi State University. During exams! In between grading 76 papers!

  I’ve received more fan mail from that novel than any other. Readers tell me they love Mama and the girls, love the scenes in the motorized shopping cart at Wal Mart and in the funeral home where Jean insists Maggie get inside to try out caskets to see if they’re comfortable enough for Mama, even though Mama is not dead. Mostly, though, fans ask who is Rainman?

  Ask away. I might even tell you!

  —Peggy Webb

  www.peggywebb.com

  Selling My 1st Novel to Harlequin

  #8

  I have many favorite Harlequin moments, but the greatest happened the first week of June in 2005.

  I had submitted a full manuscript to Harlequin Historicals, and that day, a slender envelope awaited me in the mailbox. I felt crushed—a slender envelope almost always means a rejection, right?

  My hands were shaking when I opened the envelope, and when I stared at the letter, I started shaking even more.

  It wasn’t a rejection. It was a revision letter. My family was watchi
ng television, and I couldn’t stop the grin. I actually ran into the garage and yelled, “Oh, my God!” Then I danced like Jennifer Beals in the song “Maniac” from Flashdance. Words can’t describe how happy I was.

  —Michelle Willingham

  www.michellewillingham.com

  #9

  In the same month that I received my ‘call’ (though back in 1984—those prehistoric days—it wasn’t a ‘call’ but a letter from an editor called Mary Stannard) we also learned that my mother had terminal cancer. So if ever there was a time for the good news to arrive when we were all still together to celebrate it then it was that July.

  Mother had always known how much I dreamed of being a writer and achieving that dream without being able to tell her just wouldn’t have been the same. Sadly she didn’t live to see my first book. But she knew it was coming and she was able to boast to everyone she knew about it. And I can remember the expression on her face when I told her.

  —Kate Walker

  www.kate-walker.com

  #10

  During my first romance conference, my editor took me to a deserted corridor and said, “We want to buy your book.”

  I bet she didn’t know she’d placed her life at great risk. I pinned her to the wall with the force of my elation.

  What ensued was the most adrenaline-gushing time of my life.

  The news made it to eHarlequin within minutes, and the marvelous hosties put up the first-ever (?) sale party thread.

  It was all pure magic.

  —Olivia Gates

  www.oliviagates.com

  #11

  The perfect moment when I opened the box filled with copies of that first book and saw my name on the cover—on every cover in that box!—and I knew this was real. Harlequin had published my book.